Igniting the Sky
by Euregatto
Summary: The sky is going to fold on me. And I can't even fly yet.  -hinted Renji/Jackie


_Boredom got the better of me. I wanted to do something... different than what I'm used to doing. **So remember to reveiw!** Because I'm not sure if I even like it or not... I felt awful for Jackie after reading the latest chapter, poor girl D:_

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><p>When I was a kid I always dreamed of flying… because that's what appeals to most people; the epitome of dreams. I'm trying to fly right now. My eyes are turned up to the translucent blue skies splayed out above me, my wings are stretched preparing to soar and my boots are just barely skimming the dirt.<p>

But when I make my descent into reality I hold my brother limply in my arms, blood staining the floorboards before me. Despite my urges to take to the sky I spend a lot of time cleaning my favorite boots—so when the vermillion warmth stains my slick black leather I suddenly apprehend the situation.

I conclude that I want to fly simply to escape this oppressed life. And that isn't going to happen anytime soon.

**. . .**

It isn't much later that I meet Ginjou.

He's willing to teach me how to fly. He makes me realize I no longer have a fear of outgrowing my boots—the very ones that were stolen for me. Why did I always have to steal happiness? To me happiness cannot be earned. It is an illusion created by those who are unable to comprehend anguish—but I am instead afraid that one day I will learn how to fly and the sky will fold on me.

My wings will break and I will collapse. The clouds will ignite like fire, blackening the sun, causing rain to turn to acidic embers. I don't want that to happen… so what if I just don't fly? Even now my feathers burn my skin. I tear at my down, ripping them free. Ginjou tells me I cannot take this pain out on myself, but rather on others. That's why I'm with something called… Xcution.

He explains it—or tries to—but I'm too confused to absorb the information.

So I'm left stranded, bleeding on the ground, peevishly waiting for my feathers to grow back so I can enjoy ripping them from my body again.

**. . .  
><strong>**. .  
><strong>**.**

Motorcycles. They feel like flying.

I sit on one a few days after my—what did Ginjou say it was now? Awakening of my Fullbring?—breakdown, but I'll be OK (for now). I'm part of this Xcution business, although my mind still feels clouded. The boots on my feet are my strength. My wings are folded (for now, but soon, very soon, shall I take flight).

There are three others in this… _Xcution_. Uttering the word leaves a sour aftertaste on my tongue, almost like inhaling the exhaust emitting from the motorcycle's pipe. Riruka, agitated about life in general, complains about my ride, but I ignore her like I have been for the past few days. She's a child, younger than me by at least five years. Ginjou informs me I'm old enough to boss her around if I want to…

I choose not to.

Little Yukio is afraid of… _Xcution_ (still sour… for now). He scruffs his blonde hair up all the time; it bothers me. I fix it on a daily basis. Sometimes gel it. He hates that—thinks I'm trying to be a mother, though I wonder if it's an instinct preset in a woman's genes. He can't talk, I assume because his parents never taught him correctly.

He thinks parents don't understand children. I tell him parents understand children just fine—I even explain it using simple terms in hopes his nine-year-old brain will understand—but that only leads to him asking about my mother and father.

"They're dead," I whisper, "They were murdered in front of me." I lock myself away and cry until I feel better. I haven't cried in a while. Feels good. Old man Giriko tells me about the members of… _Xcution_ (a little less aftertaste this time). They're all loose canons, waiting to fire, dancing in the embers that fall from the sky.

And I'm just a bird still ripping feathers from my down. I can't fly unless I'm on this motorcycle stalking the streets searching for something that appeals to me. But nothing does. Only these boots do—my… replacement wings. But I can't fly with these.

I'm grounded. For now.

**. . .  
><strong>**. .  
><strong>**.**

Yukio is the first one to break. He steals all of his parents' wealth; makes it his own—must be nice to have money—and finally they kill themselves. As we sit watching the news report that covers this incident Yukio falls to the floor laughing like a deranged maniac…

His scruffy blonde hair masks his tears.

Riruka follows shortly after. I'm not very sure what happened to her—but apparently she almost killed a man she kind of liked. Giriko and that Tsukishima guy are so quiet about this. All they can do is help us train, help us move on, help us… Help us.

I can't fly. _Help me_.

I didn't mean to break today. But Ginjou drags me to the side and tells me where to find the men who murdered my family. So I hunt them down, I slaughter them but not their families—I can't do it. I simply can't. I don't want to stoop to their level, but Ginjou thinks…—and I return with my boots even dirtier than before.

Yukio is crying, alone in this apartment under renovation. I don't know why, he hates his parents… shouldn't he be throwing a celebration? Casting those thoughts aside I pull him into my lap, let him use the crook of my neck as a pillow, and rock us both to sleep.

The sky is going to fold on me. And I can't even fly yet.

**. . .  
><strong>**. .  
><strong>**.**

So even as the years fly by—wings stretched, skimming the clouds, mocking me—I tend to my favorite pair of boots. I polish them, get them dirty just so I have an excuse to polish them again, and when the day ends go out for midnight drives so I have an excuse for getting them dirty… so I can polish them… A cycle.

I'm going crazy. That's not good.

Finally Ichigo is in the picture. He knows nothing about me, and he's naïve. But I was like him once… afraid of the sky folding on me.

No more. I cannot fly because there is a cage labeled **Xcution** barring me in.

At least I don't have to tear out my feathers anymore.

**. . .  
><strong>**. .  
><strong>**.**

He has red hair. Red like the fire igniting the sky folding on us. I don't know his name, but he's just as naïve as Ichigo—albeit powerful. Maybe I was the one being naïve for underestimating him. Still, my wings are broken and my feathers are coated in dirt.

The sky is folding—collapsing—blackening—

We're going to die. We can't escape. Please, kill me! He reaches for me, lifting me into his arms, "We'll force our way out."

His words are touching—they're not false, or empty, like the statements from Ginjou's mouth. He sounds genuine, his voice so strong, his touch so gentle… He is… _kind_ to me. I'm not familiar with this strange feeling overwhelming me, but I'm sure it's not fear. No, it's… _happiness_. I am _content_.

Even as the sky collapses around me I realize I'm afraid of… **nothing**. I'm not afraid! Not anymore.

And for once I smile. _So this is what it's like to fly…_


End file.
